


Do Something About It

by Magicath_420



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slight Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 20:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20159902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicath_420/pseuds/Magicath_420
Summary: “At this point, it’s worth noting that Cisco wasn’t stupid. He knew damn well that Harry didn’t pick fights for an excuse to push him up against lab tables platonically, and that Cisco’s own feelings towards Harry had mutated from friendship to something different long ago. But Harry was too stubborn to admit that he didn’t actually consider Cisco a nuisance, and Cisco was too annoyed at his stubbornness to make the first move.”Cisco figures that if flirting with Oliver Queen can’t get Harry to pull his head out of his ass, nothing will.





	Do Something About It

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys I’m trash

“Maybe we should call Oliver.” Caitlin sighed.

She was met with noncommittal grunts and sighs from around the cortex. For the fifth day in a row, they’d failed to catch this new team of metas. With the ability to build bombs out of any material, they terrorized the banks around Central City, and Team Flash was running out of ideas.

“Fine.” Barry conceded. He looked tired. “We’ve tried everything else.”

Cisco snorted.

“What?” Caitlin asked.

“It’s just, is a bow and arrow really a better weapon against explosives than super speed and ice powers? Or are we, you know, maybe not thinking with our _heads_ here as much as-”

“It’s not just his bow!” Caitlin said, turning slightly pink. “He has resources, and experience, and-”

“Biceps the size of my head?” Cisco finished for her.

Barry laughed, blushing a little. Caitlin gave up and laughed, too.

“Look,” said Barry diplomatically, “Everyone has a little bit of a crush on Oliver Queen. Or at the very least, they did in middle school. That doesn’t mean it’s not also a genuinely good idea to give him a call.”

Cisco thought about it for a second. “True, I guess.” He said. “I’ll text Felicity.”

He reached over Harry (sitting next to him) and grabbed his phone from the other side of the desk. When Harry didn’t grumble about personal space or bat his hand away like usual, Cisco looked up at his face. He was staring at his computer intently, lips tight and arms crossed.

“What’re you so grumpy about?” Cisco asked him, fully aware that being called grumpy would only make Harry grumpier. “Other than all the usual stuff, I mean?”

“I just _think_,” he answered haltingly, “that our time would be better spent discussing the problem at hand than Oliver Queen’s various muscle groups.”

Cisco rolled his eyes. “Right, sorry, I forgot that you hate fun. And joy. And laughter.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue back but was cut off by Barry, who pointedly asked Cisco what they should tell Felicity, distracting the two of them from their bickering and bringing them back to the task at hand.

That task ended up filling the rest of the day, between getting in touch with Team Arrow, and explaining the problem, and going over everything they had already tried. Right before they went home, they settled on a complicated new plan of action involving Cisco’s powers in a way that he hadn’t thought of using them before.

In order for it to work, he would have to modify his costume a little bit, so he and Harry got to the lab early the next day to ensure that it would be done by the time that Team Arrow arrived. After a few hours, Harry broke the familiar quiet of concentration.

“Are you almost done with that screwdriver?”

“Um, does it look like I’m almost done with this screwdriver?” Cisco answered, because although he actually was almost done with the screwdriver, he was also bored, and in the mood to annoy Harry.

Harry harrumphed, annoyed.

“Well, you’ve been tightening the screws on your glasses for about 20 minutes now, so I-”

He cut off, presumably because Cisco was repeating everything he was saying in a high-pitched voice without looking up from what he was doing.

“Ramon.” Harry said slowly, in a tone that was probably supposed to be intimidating. “Give me the screwdriver.”

Cisco looked up. Harry was standing a few feet behind him with his jaw clenched tightly. His expression was hard, but his eyes- his eyes were soft. It was a subtle difference, not something that a stranger would notice, but one that Cisco had studied intently over the years, and could recognize a mile away. It meant that while Harry was definitely annoyed, he wasn’t frustrated, or angry. It meant that if Cisco baited him, he’d bite.

So Cisco smirked and turned around so that he was facing Harry, with his back to the table he’d been working on.

“Make me.”

Harry didn’t smile; it would’ve been out of character. Instead, he raised his eyebrows, stepping into Cisco’s personal space. Cisco stood his ground, raising his eyes to stay on Harry’s and lifting his chin in challenge. Harry was close enough that Cisco could smell his cologne.

Harry reached for the screwdriver in Cisco’s hand. Cisco held it out behind himself, just out of the other man’s reach. Harry pressed closer to him, pinning him against the table.

“You know I’m stronger than you, right, Ramon?” Harry said in his ear.

“Oh hoho,” Cisco chuckled, “Yeah. You know I have superpowers, right, Harry?”

Cisco shoved Harry back a step with his free hand. With his other, he tossed the screwdriver up in the air, opened a breach under it, and let it fall in. Then, he opened another breach, directly above Harry’s head.

Harry was so caught off guard when the tool hit him that he actually jumped; so much for calm, cool, and intimidating, Cisco thought. Then Harry turned to catch the screwdriver before it hit the floor, and when he looked back at Cisco, wore a careful expression of deeply begrudging respect and so, so, _so_ much annoyance. Cisco beamed at him, triumphant.

“Hey guys I- oh.” Caitlin began, walking into the lab, and stopping abruptly upon seeing how close Cisco and Harry were standing to one another. “Um, Team Arrow is here.” She continued, a little uncomfortably.

“We’ll be out in a second.” Cisco told her. She gave an awkward smile, and walked away.

He turned his head back to Harry, who still hadn’t moved.

“How do I look?” Cisco asked him, flipping his hair back and smiling mischievously.

Harry’s eyes hardened.

At this point, it’s worth noting that Cisco wasn’t stupid. He knew damn well that Harry didn’t pick fights for an excuse to push him up against lab tables platonically, and that Cisco’s own feelings towards Harry had mutated from friendship to something different long ago. But Harry was too stubborn to admit that he didn’t actually consider Cisco a nuisance, and Cisco was too annoyed at his stubbornness to make the first move.

In fact, everything about the situation annoyed Cisco. From Harry’s stupid bright blue eyes to the absolutely _excessive_ height difference between them, and the way that he gave just a little bit too much to be natural when Cisco shoved him, because Harry really was stronger, but he still wanted to play... Cisco hated loving him. The only thing he hated more was that he didn’t hate it, not really, not even a little bit. Try as he might (and he had _tried_), Cisco just couldn’t do anything but adore the grumpy, overcast ray of sunshine that lit up his life.

So instead of hating him, Cisco just bothered him in every way he knew how. And now with Oliver in town, Cisco could play off of Harry’s jealousy, getting directly to the point. It was the perfect challenge: if Harry didn’t like it, he could man up and ask Cisco out for real. But if he insisted on acting, badly, like it didn’t bother him... oh, yeah. This was going to be _fun_.

Harry just glared at him and led the way to the cortex.

Felicity was already sitting at Cisco’s computer when they arrived, and Oliver was standing nearby, talking to Barry. Together with Caitlin, the group of superheroes went over their complicated plan to take on the robbers that had Barry, Cisco, and Oliver in the field, with everyone else running support from STAR Labs.

*****

After a long, grueling week of training and preparations, the metas attacked again. Barry ran Cisco and Oliver to the scene as the alarms blared, hiding them behind parked cars outside before approaching the metas in the open himself. Oliver nodded at Cisco, and the two crept forward, the way they had practiced dozens of times. But before they could act, Cisco heard the unmistakable _click_ of a bomb arming itself behind him. He barely had time to be scared before his world exploded in a flash of light and pain.

The next thing Cisco knew, someone was saying his name gently. He was lying on his back on something soft and warm. It felt safe. Waking up slowly, he twitched a finger, and was met with an intense, shooting pain as feeling returned to his limbs. He groaned and opened his eyes.

“He’s awake.” Caitlin said to someone that Cisco couldn’t see. She peered down at him, worried. “How do you feel?”

“I’ll survive.” He hated worrying her. “What happened?”

“They snuck up behind us.” It was Barry’s voice this time, coming from the other side of the bed. “Cisco, I’m so sorry, I should’ve seen-”

“No, no, this isn’t your fault, Barr. You did everything according to plan.”

“Felicity may have found a way to track these guys.” Oliver said, walking into the med bay. He noticed that Cisco was awake. “Hey, Cisco.” He said, gently placing a giant hand on his shoulder and giving him a kind, handsome smile. “How do you feel?”

“Yeah.” Cisco answered stupidly. “I mean- good. I feel good.”

“That’s good.” Oliver said, a twinkle in his eye.

Harry cleared his throat. “What was that you were saying about tracking them?” He asked.

“Right.” Oliver said. “Follow me.”

The group filed out towards the cortex, so only Caitlin was left at Cisco’s side.

“So, how bad is it?” Cisco asked.

“Two bruised ribs, a concussion, and three different fractures in your right leg.”

Cisco whistled. “How long am I on bedrest for?”

“You can get out of bed tomorrow, but you’re not leaving this building for at least a week.”

Cisco groaned.

*****

The next day, Cisco was hobbling around his lab on crutches, with a full-length cast on his right leg, when Harry walked in. He stood across the room from Cisco, and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey.” Cisco offered. No response.

Alright, fine. The hard way then.

“So, did Oliver carry me back here bridle style yesterday? Cause if I missed that by being unconscious I’m going to be-”

“Stop.” Harry cut him off. “Can you just- just stop. For a minute. Please.”

He was agitated, not playfully, but actually, dragging his hands through his hair as he spoke. Cisco rarely saw him like this. He hated it.

“Yeah.” Cisco responded, dropping all the joke from his voice. With anyone else, such an abrupt switch from teasing to genuine would be awkward or uncomfortable. With Harry, it felt like diving into warm water.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“Yes.” Cisco said.

Harry raised his eyebrows.

Cisco rolled his eyes.

“Harry, I’m _fine_. My most serious injury is a broken leg. I got worse than that from a kickball game in middle school.”

Harry frowned, taking a step closer to Cisco.

“You could have died yesterday.”

“I could have saved a life, too.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I also didn’t die.”

“But you _could_ have!” Harry yelled, throwing a marker past Cisco’s head in frustration. Cisco hadn’t seen him seethe like this since- oh. Since Zoom had Jesse.

“Is that why you’re mad? Cause you’re worried about me?”

Harry didn’t say anything. Fucking, of course, this is where he loses his nerve. Just before he says something real.

“Well?” Cisco prodded.

Harry looked at him for a beat, then turned away.

_Fine_. Cisco thought. _Fucking, fine. Let’s go back to pretending we don’t care. Like teenagers. Fine._

“Well, you don’t need to worry. I was perfectly safe the whole time. I was with Oliver.”

He dragged Oliver’s name out, pronouncing each syllable pointedly.

Halfway across the room, standing by the wall directly across from the lab’s entrance, Harry froze, shoulders tense.

Cisco limped a step closer, crutches forgotten, balancing on his good leg.

“He never would have let anything happen to me.”

Harry turned around to face Cisco, real anger etched in the lines of his face.

“_He_ doesn’t even know you.” Harry spat, lips curling on “he” like a curse.

“Hmm, I don’t know, we’ve actually gotten pretty close this past week, with all those late night training sessions.” Cisco said, mockingly casual, approaching Harry, labored step by labored step. “Did you know he’s never had Big Belly Burger?”

Another step closer.

“Did you know that every time he pulls back his bowstring, its the equivalent of deadlifting 150 pounds?”

Another step closer. He was in Harry’s space now, only a breath away, looking up into bright blue eyes. Every line in Harry’s body was hardened in anger.

Cisco lowered his voice. “Did you know he likes to fuck with the lights on, so he can watch you while he takes you apart?”

Harry grabbed the front of Cisco’s shirt, turned, and slammed him into the wall, pinning him there.

“He didn’t touch you.” Harry spat, voice low and dangerous.

“How would you know?”

Harry growled deep in his throat. Cisco felt his feet leave the ground.

“What’s wrong, Harry? Does the idea of Oliver Queen fucking me-” Harry’s grip tightened, pushing Cisco’s shoulder blades into the wall painfully- “make you mad? Do you have something you want to say to me?”

Harry stared at him, breathing heavy, visibly weighing his options, never loosening his grip. He didn’t get a chance to make a decision, though, because at that moment, an eerily familiar _click_ rang out from behind him. Cisco had just enough time to watch Harry’s eyes grow wide before there was a blinding flash and he felt Harry pull him into his chest, protecting him as a shock wave ripped the world apart around them.

When the dust settled, Cisco slowly removed himself from Harry’s arms.

“Harry-”

Harry gripped his shoulders tightly and held him at arms length, looking him up and down. “Are you alright?” He asked.

Cisco nodded, throat dry. “You?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

A moment passed. Cisco swallowed the panic rising up in him.

“Harry, they’re in the building.”

“Barry should be here by now.” Harry answered distractedly. “They must have him occupied somehow.”

Neither of them raised the possibility that Barry was too hurt to help, or worse- it was unthinkable.

“We need to run.” Harry said.

“I can’t.” Cisco gestured to the plaster cast that covered his right leg up to his thigh. The panic was starting to spill over, and his voice shook.

“Okay, okay.” Harry said, putting his other hand on Cisco’s other shoulder, trying to calm him down. “Well, they already hit this room, right? So they probably won’t hit it again, at least not with the same force. If you stay here, out of sight, you should be safe.”

The logic seemed shaky at best, but Cisco wasn’t about to argue. He let Harry help him over to one overturned lab table and gently lowered himself to sit behind it, propping himself up against the horizontal legs.

“Okay.” said Harry, kneeling next to him. “I’m going to go find the team. I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”

Cisco shook his head almost involuntarily. He was near tears; he felt defenseless, and vulnerable, and deeply terrified. He couldn’t catch his breath.

Harry noticed, because _of course_ he did; he could read Cisco like a book, even on a good day. He gently cupped the side of Cisco’s face with his hand.

“Cisco.” He said. “Look at me.”

Cisco met his eyes, bright blue and steady.

“They’re not going to find you. They’re not going to hurt you. I am going to walk out that door, and then I am going to be the first person back through it. And if something happens, and it’s not me, it’ll be another member of our team, or- or- oh.”

Cisco’s breath hitched as they both finished his sentence in their heads. There was only one more good guy.

Harry took a deep breath and finally- _finally_\- made a fucking decision.

He leaned forward and kissed Cisco, gently at first, but more fiercely as Cisco leaned into it, dragging his hand through Harry’s hair. Harry pushed him back until his head was pinned between Harry’s and the table leg, then tilted his face to get a better angle, and pushed his tongue into Cisco’s mouth. Cisco made a quiet noise that only Harry could hear, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, panic forgotten, wishing this moment would last forever.

It was far too soon when Harry dragged himself away, reluctantly sitting back on his heels.

“I have to go.”

“You’re coming back to me.” Cisco said. It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t even an order. It was just a simple statement of fact.

“Before you even know I’m gone.”

Harry kissed him one more time, hard, then stood and picked up a gun that had fallen nearby. He walked towards the lab’s exit, shoulders square.

“Oh, and Ramon?” Harry said from the doorway. Cisco looked up.

“Tell Queen that if he lays a hand on you, I’ll make him wish he’d never gotten off that goddamn island in the first place.”

Cisco grinned. Finally, some fucking honesty. 


End file.
